


Camp Second Chance

by Defilia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Multi, Mutant Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defilia/pseuds/Defilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 20 years since the case of Anomaly #001 and Preben deems himself a proud member of a smugglers group in quarantine camp 'Second Chance'. When he's forced to smuggle people to the outside world however, he definitely starts doubting his life choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camp Second Chance

Teachers had always said he needed to learn picking up his surroundings more and for a child that advice was as void as it could ever be. And until he saw that boy sitting on the steps in front of the school doors, he never really understood it either.

His friends were already calling for him, but he waved it off. There was the familiar and joking yell of the word idiot, and for once he didn’t laugh along. This boy was intriguing. He faintly registered the chattering about soccer and laughing as the others all left.

Preben honestly tried to be friends with anyone, say some sort of greeting to as many kids as possible on the playground but the fact that he couldn’t even recall this kid’s name….

And now he found himself watching, staring at him, a kid he honestly couldn’t remember being in his class, fixing a watch on the school steps on that early autumn afternoon, most kids already gone home. Preben kept lingering around as he watched the kid work with utter precision and a frown on his face, taking out little gears and placing them back in as if it was the easiest puzzle to solve. Preben wondered if maybe, maybe this wasn’t normal. That it was the thing his mom had told him about a year ago after he’d had the urge to wrap himself in eight blankets until the frost on his skin disappeared. Preben leaned down further on the steering wheel of his bike, eyes still glued on those working fingers before he spoke up.

“How do you do that?”

 The boy looked up so ridiculously fast and immediately the watch, or rather the pieces of it, dropped onto the street as he made a run for it. Preben jumped from his bike, not caring where or how it landed on the concrete as he sprinted over to recollect the biggest parts before chasing after him. 

“Hey come back! C’mon, I just…!”

The boy didn’t seem to listen, kept on running without looking back. That was until he made the mistake of sprinting into little alley next to the Bakery. With that dead end, he was forced to turn around and finally face Preben. That look of pure terror behind those glasses was still there, and Preben tried not to notice as both boys caught their breaths.

 “Look, listen to me. I’m not gonna rat on you, I swear.” In a useless attempt at surrender he threw both of his hands up in air.

The boy still didn’t reply, eyes looking at the spaces between Preben and the walls in a vain attempt to find a way out of the little alley. “Just…What’s your name? I’m Preben.”He tried his best to smile in the most genuine way possible, something that always felt like a second nature until now for some reason. The corners of his lip didn’t twitch up enough without it being uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but sigh as he slowly lowered his arms again.

“I know you…” The boy started, finally speaking up although it was still hushed in a way that Preben had to pay close attention in order to hear what he was saying. It was a start, however, and Preben didn’t mention it in a way that he would normally do.

“Why did you follow me?” 

“Because I’m just like you!”

 “No, you’re not.”

 Preben bit his lip, carefully sneaking glances over both his shoulders to make sure they were the only ones around. Mom always said not to do anything when people were around, that he wasn’t allowed to play superhero just yet. It could grab the attention of the wrong people, those who demanded vaccines and caused kids to transfer out of nowhere.

The alley was still completely deserted; the only noise being his own heart beating in his ears. He concentrated, closed his eyes. Although he couldn’t resist the urge to crack one open again to eye the other kid before saying: “Watch this.”A grin on his face before both eyes closed again.

He was still learning, trying to get a hang of this thing when he had the chance to. Mom always knew when he had been practising. She could feel their apartment got colder somehow, no matter how much he tried cracking up the heat afterwards. Preben started to feel the cold himself with both his hands slowly growing a small layer of snow.

Upon opening his eyes again, he saw the kid staring at his hands in something that could be called awe -or annoyance- , he couldn’t tell. Nevertheless the grin on Preben’s face grew wider as his fingers wiggled around, snow not moving an inch as they covered his skin from fingers up to wrists.

“Pretty awesome, huh? I want it to reach my elbows soon now that I know how to make it appear when I want it to. Mom says that if I try hard enough I can become a superhero like the ones on the news.”

“Why would you want that?” The boy asked, brows furrowing together in confusion.

 Preben didn’t get it.

“Because then I can help people!”

“But I don’t think they would want our help.” 

Preben just laughed for a second, concentration fading and the snow slowly melting from his hands again in response. “You’re weird.”

“I’m Berwald.”

 “Huh?”

“I’m not weird, I’m Berwald. That’s a big difference.” Berwald said, pushing his glasses further back on his nose before crossing his arms. He finally moved after that, passing next to Preben to make his way out of the little alley now that he deemed Preben less of a treat and more of a nuisance. “And I gotta get home before my dad gets worried.”

 Preben turned around, catching up to walk in stride with his newly dubbed friend. Why hadn’t he talked to this kid earlier?

 “Well Berwald, you just wait! In a few years I’ll be all over the news as this town’s newest hero.”

 

 

*** 

 

The arrest of the man who breathed fire has been….

_Several other reports of the now so called Anomalies all around the country…_

 

_The number of confirmed deaths after the demonstrations caused by Anomaly supporters against the execution of 5 Anomalies has now passed 350._

_The new branch of defence will ensure no other accidents… ._

_Those are not people, but monsters!_

 

_It has been confirmed that Europe now finally agrees on the Quarantine plan that had been denied by the President for the past few months. Measures will be taken from tomorrow onwards to ensure public safety. Washinton will be the first state to…_

 

_So far there is still is no confirmed cure for the Anomaly gene that was discovered. Doctors are still searching, the public hoping. So far 19 cities have been placed under martial law and the number keeps expanding._

 

_All Anomalies must assign to a nearby hospital for registration where there will be decided if they qualify for quarantine or not._

 

_A rebellious group of Anomalies called The People of Tomorrow has claimed responsibility for all 3 attacks that happened yesterday during…_

 

 

_Riots have continued to manifest for a third week. The governor has called a state of emergency, as food supplies and clean water are still hard to come by. Quarantine will be provided last, says…._

 

_The People of Tomorrow demand rights for all Anomalies and claim to continue sabotaging quarantine until registrations and collars are abolished._

 

_The remaining braches of the government clearly state that every Tomorrow Supporter will be killed on sight. The Los Angeles quarantine zone, The Bright New Dawn, has been declared unsafe after riots caused by the execution of another 3 Tomorrowner’s within quarantine walls._

 

_Remember whose side you’re really on. We are this species new hope for survival, not what they want you to believe. We are the People of Tomorrow._

 

 

***

 

 

It was the loud knocking on his door that woke him up from a slumber. He reckoned it hadn’t been that deep to begin with. His body jerking up violently made him realize that, if it hadn’t been for the knocking, a nightmare would’ve done the job anyway.

The banging didn’t stop and, afraid that the door might collapse because those hinges were shit ever since the house had been claimed, he just yelled: “I’m coming, I’m coming” several times until he could finally get off of the couch, still rubbing the remains of his slumber out of the corner of his eye. A smile was back on his face as soon as he opened the door.

Mathilde just stormed inside -although not as fast as usual, Preben noted- without giving him a second glance. She seated herself on his table, not bothering to look what might be between her and the wood.

“Hey, I don’t know where that ass has been! I eat there!” he commented while feigning annoyance. It was hard to sound cheery after just waking up like that, but he managed just fine by his standards. His smile disappeared, however, as she didn’t seem to get to joke….or didn’t want to acknowledge it. She merely ran a frustrated hand through her hair instead.

It took him a moment to notice how she refused to turn her head. Her golden hair was always so good at covering up half of her face. Just like she was good at complaining about how she needed a haircut. Walking up to her in a few quick strides and grabbing Mathilde softly by the shin, he carefully turned her face to reveal the purple bruise on her cheekbone.

“Who did this?”

Her frown made his lower lip jut forward with a sigh. He turned around to grab the bottle of cheap alcohol stashed in one of the cupboards. The slightly dirty rag that was still on the table within reach got soaked in the liquid and pressed against the bruise. All she did was hiss before she finally answered him, but only because of his constant nudging at her legs.

“Nobody important, okay? We got our cargo so-“ “You shouldn’t have gone without me…” He muttered, shaking his head in the process. She huffed once, and then twice after a slight pause.

“Like I said, we got what we needed.”

“I hope you taught them a lesson or two?”

She chuckled a little at that, in a way her shoulders moved up and down as if it were a small hiccup or two.

 “They cut off all our radios…”

It took him a moment to register the change in conversation; that it wasn’t about creeps that were strangled in some alleyway just outside of quarantine borders for the Military to find anymore. “Wait, what?”

He mentally slapped himself for how stupid that sounded.

“Arthur made a deal apparently, for more food supplies for his people and now everyone is cut off.” She clarified, taking the rag that was left abandoned on the table, Preben being too busy kicking the most nearby chair in anger with both hands in his hair.

“How selfish can he be?!”

Mathilde jumped off of the table, her hands firmly grabbing his own by the wrist and pulling them down.

“Look, Martijn has offered that we all go talk to him and-“

“You know we’re still not allowed to cross to other sections for a month after they found out about the collar sabotage.” He cut in before she could finish, brows furrowing as she just gave him that confident look she could pull off so beautifully, even with that bruise covering her features. She only smiled in that wicked little way he had always adored, shaking her head. “As if that has ever stopped us.”

 

 

***

 

 

“C’mon let’s get this over with before curfew.”

When he stepped out of his horrible excuse of a house the quarantine walls were still there. They could be seen over the decaying buildings as the ever-present reminder that everyone was locked up. The house wasn’t actually his since everything belonged to quarantine, one way or another, but after fighting a good few people over it Preben sure as hell dared to claim it his own. It was his just like that collar around his neck was and in this world, and a little bit of luck, that was just about everything you had as an anomaly.

His eyes scanned upwards to the guard on top of the flat roofs, looking down on them like the stuck rats they were.

“Still with me?” Mathilde tugged at his arm a little, the warmth of her touch bleeding through his dirty flannel and snapping his attention back to her and the plan.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.”

“I gotta have you with me a 100% when we get there, you know.”

“As if Arthur isn’t on the run yet. The only thing we’ll see of him is his chicken ass. “ He grinned, mimicking some wing flapping for emphasis as if she ever needed some in the first place.

Her smile and laugh were a little wistful. It wasn’t that Preben actually recognized the face she was pulling; he had always had a lot of trouble with reading people’s expressions. He could never decide for himself when it was a good time to stop talking because of that. The only reason why he was so sure of it now was because of her hand fidgeting around the necklace she always wore; the necklace her little brother gave her for her birthday one day, in a time where everything was still normal. The brother who was the one family member that to this day still didn’t have a name in Preben’s head because neither Mathilde nor Martijn ever trusted him enough to actually share it. So he just labelled the kid in his head for the lack of a better option.

The Little Brother that didn’t make it.

He often wondered if her necklace was the only thing she had left from Before. Mathilde wasn’t the only one who carried something around. Anomalies always smuggled stuff through Sectors; possessions so dear to them it was worth every risk. Little tokens that reminded everyone of what the world used to be like. How the lucky ones had been able to get personal possessions like keychains or photographs past the quarantine border on that first day, while others just found stuff along the way and claimed it as their own as if it had been part of their history all along. He himself often brought new stuff in, stuffed his backpack full of things like old and incomplete scrabble sets or a mouldy stuffed animal for the new kids that flocked around these days because giving that stuff away without having to ask for ration tickets or bullets in return was like reliving Christmas morning again on those little faces. Less room to carry ‘important’ stuff be damned. Sometimes it was just better to truly believe that stuff belonged to you in order to keep going.

He knew Martijn’s pipe used to belong to his dad and that he never really got to use it because as soon as he deemed himself old enough to start getting addicted to nicotine it was already too hard to come by. Preben still kept the little bag of tobacco he found during the last smuggle safely tucked away under his bed, for when Martijn’s birthday would come around.

Mathilde dragged him over into the next alley, her slight worry now completely gone when they passed arms full of loaded guns. She made sure not to pass the soldiers at the border checkpoint at the end of their section, which meant they were taking the detour. Preben hated going to the Outside through the hotel. The corridors always too full of people who never minded their own business. He was even sure most of them slept there in the halls instead of occupying a bed, scared to miss anything that would pass by. It wouldn’t be the first time they got ratted on over the promise of ration tickets by some of the soldiers.

Mathilde just huffed a laugh at his obvious annoyance, which was apparently plastered all over his face while pushing the heavy door open. She was never the one to take someone else’s bullshit and often he was thankful for it, unless, like in this case, it was his own.

The corridor was as dimly lit as he last remembered it and it made him realize how long it had been since they had last used this route, at least a good few months back. It was too hidden in plain sight to actually make use of whenever they pleased. Passing through borders wasn’t that much of a problem most of the time either these days. They were blessed with affairs going steady, a minimum of riots that could be held in control. The residents were rewarded for it. For the past couple of weeks the food supply was even running steadily enough to quarantine Second Chance. They had no use in working that much under the military’s noses. Well, not more than they usually did.

An arm suddenly swung over his shoulder and a familiar laugh sounded close to his ear.

“Hey, where are you two going? You know restrictions are still in order, right?” Gilbert just laughed, not really needing to know the answer, like always, really. It was hard to pass anything around without Gilbert knowing, the birds all around the walls were for more than just delivering messages to his family member on the other end. Preben reasoned that nobody could possibly be as wary of birds as the Anomalies here in Second Chance were.

He noticed that Mathilde hadn’t shaken off Gilbert’s other arm that was still swung around her neck, which was always a good sign.

She just shrugged at Gilbert’s question, too casual for the words that she spoke. “I didn’t see you complaining after you got that collar turned off.”

No good sign after all.

It had been a good five months until Gilbert had been able to send out a new message because of the collars and Preben remembered how scared he had been that there wouldn’t be something to deliver back to him in the end. This was a low blow from Mathilde and Preben couldn’t help but scowl. The arms around both of them disappeared but that smile on Gil’s face never faltered, not even when Mathilde decided to resume walking.

 “Aww, c’mon Mads you know I didn’t mean it like that! I’m just trying to help out. Look out for you guys, you know, with all that shit about people wanting to find Arthur an-“

“Who else is looking for him then?”

He just grinned. “You too huh?"

Really nothing went around without Gilbert knowing.

Preben’s eyes found Mathilde’s and the look that stared back at him confirmed that feeling low in his gut. This wasn’t what they had been planning on. Too many people after Arthur only ruined the chances of him actually hanging around long enough for them to catch him.

“Obviously. He isn’t getting away with this.” She answered, voice never faltering. There was no need to elaborate; of course Gil knew what was going on. 

Gilbert took a few steps to catch up with them, walking in stride between both Preben and Mathilde, as easy-going as ever. “Not just that! I heard that Cécile wants to skin him alive. From what people have been saying I reckon she’s been asking around, trying to figure out where he’s hiding.”

“What do the Tomorrow People want with Arthur?” Preben heard himself asking while casting a careful glance at Gilbert. Both his hands disappeared in the pockets of his jeans.

“Pfft, as if they would ever tell me.”

People at Second Chance were really, really wary of birds.

Mathilde cut in then, “Well, did you tell them anything?" 

And Gilbert laughed again, head even thrown back for a second. “That I don’t have a shit clue where he’s hiding his cowardly ass.”

 Preben couldn’t help but smile at that one and by the looks of it Mathilde couldn’t either.

 “Good!” He gave Gil a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Hey watch out for yourself all right? I’ll be back by tonight for poker.” He assured with a curt nod and a grin before taking the left turn at the intersection in the hallway where Mathilde already stood waiting patiently for him to say his short goodbye.

It took a few seconds before there was a distant reply, their backs already turned and Gilbert’s voice as happy as ever. “Just don’t get yourselves into too much trouble.”

 When the next corridor was completely deserted and only the sound of their own footsteps on the broken tile floor echoing around them, Preben spoke up. “Sooo Tomorrow people are also after Arthur.” A low whistle. “He’s a dead man.”

 She linked her arm through his, her step almost a light skip. “Well, let’s make sure we find him before they do then. I want to be the one who has his head.”


End file.
